Faith
by akatolstoy
Summary: Post-Counteragent: Sydney confronts her mother after she finds out about Alice and receives Irina's advice.


Title: Faith  
  
Author: akatolstoy  
  
Email: akatolstoy@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, or any of its characters. It all belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, ABC, Touchstone, etc. I also don't own the rights to any of Alison Krauss's songs. The lyrics I quote are from "Crazy Faith" on Alison Krauss's CD "New Favorite," released by Rounder.  
  
Summary: Sydney confronts her mother after finding out about Alice. Writing this piece was my therapy after watching "Counteragent." Thanks, as always, to Alliecat, Sirona7, and Claudia. Fide et fortitude!  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Classification: Angst, S/V Romance  
  
Spoilers: "Counteragent"  
  
--------  
  
I lit my love and watched it burn  
  
Asking nothing in return  
  
Except the lessons I will learn  
  
By holding crazy faith  
  
The questions will not let me sleep  
  
Answers buried way too deep  
  
At the bottom of a lover's leap  
  
Made by crazy faith  
  
Love is lightning, love is ice  
  
It only strikes the lucky twice  
  
Once, so you will know the price  
  
And once for crazy faith  
  
You're not asking if I love this man  
  
I know you don't, you don't believe you can  
  
Yet I've seen love open like a dancer's fan  
  
It's crazy I know,  
  
But my faith says so  
  
--"Crazy Faith"  
  
Sydney got up and pulled on a pair of old gray sweats and a faded sweatshirt. She placed her feet in her running shoes and tied the laces with difficulty in the dark. Her body was slow, her mind sluggish, deprived as it was of sleep, heavy with aching, cold with sorrow. She hadn't been able to get warm--her hands were icy-- ever since they had talked that morning. She felt as if her soul had been lacerated--like a house left empty, the wind whistling through the cracks in the foundation, seeping through the crevices at every window and door.  
  
The streets were empty and silent. It was early--not even a sliver of light could yet be seen on the horizon. The agent who posed as the down-on-his- luck Vietnam Vet wouldn't be at his post for hours yet. She jogged to the check point, her mind completely detached from her body. The only music that accompanied her was the sound of her feet hitting the pavement-- rhythmic, steady, drowning out the pain--and the sound of his voice in her head.  
  
"See you at home."  
  
"I'm your ally."  
  
"Hey."  
  
Words, once so filled with tenderness, hollow now--hollow and empty like her heart.  
  
She entered the code, making sure no one saw her pass through the gate. Down the stairs, through the rotunda, passing by the few night agents counting the minutes until their shift would end, and they could go back to their safe warm beds--the lucky ones going home to someone who would instinctively move close to warm them.  
  
She spoke a few words to the guard, and the portcullis to her mother's cell groaned as it lifted to let her pass through.  
  
Irina lay curled on the narrow pallet, one arm curved beneath her head, her long, lithe, elegant form poised, even in sleep.  
  
"Tell me," Sydney commanded, her voice hoarse. She licked her lips.  
  
"Tell me what you said to him," she repeated, her voice was louder now, more commanding, that is, until it cracked on the word "him."  
  
Irina awoke, as if from the lightest sleep, swinging both slippered feet to the ground in one graceful motion and moving to stand before her daughter.  
  
"By him, you mean Agent Vaughn," she said, looking at her daughter steadily.  
  
There were deep circles beneath Sydney's sad, dark eyes. Her face was pale and drawn from lack of sleep. Irina's own eyes glistened as she gazed at her, and she knit her eyebrows, her mouth turning down at the corners briefly, before she gave Sydney the briefest of wistful smiles.  
  
"I missed your entire adolescence," Irina whispered, her voice no more than a breath. "I never got to hear about your first crush, or watch at the window as you left on your first date, or hold you when things didn't work out. The only reason you've come to me now is because you feel you can no longer go to him."  
  
Sydney's lips trembled, and she gulped, desperately trying to master her emotions. But Irina watched as misery won out and saw her daughter's face contort with pain.  
  
"What do you mourn the most? The exclusivity of his regard, or the fact that your valiant knight has erred? Are you grieving for his love or his tarnished honor?" Irina asked softly.  
  
Sydney recoiled, as if her mother had slapped her.  
  
"Love is pain," Irina said, her voice turning harsh. "Courtly love exists only in medieval legends and fairy tales. You're far too old to confuse either with reality. You hurt the ones you love. They hurt you. Sometimes intentionally, other times as result of circumstance. Love either dies or grows stronger as a result."  
  
"Who are you to talk about love?" Sydney lashed out, her voice cracking with emotion. "How could you know anything about love?"  
  
"I know more than you think," Irina answered quietly. "Especially in regards to your relationship with Agent Vaughn. I've watched you both for over a year. I didn't need Agent Vaughn to tell me he loved you. I knew that already. His love for you is as evident as yours is for him. He is a good man, Sydney, but he is not perfect. Even the truest hearts can err and the most honorable intentions can become clouded."  
  
"Don't patronize me. I didn't come here for platitudes!" Sydney said, clenching her teeth, turning to go.  
  
"No, you came for comfort, and I am giving you a choice!" Irina exclaimed. "I won't ask you if you love him. I know you do. But you're afraid. You can either hold on to that fear and sacrifice your love for Michael Vaughn and his love for you, or you can master it and build a love ten times stronger than before."  
  
"I'm not the only one who needs to make a decision!"  
  
"No--no, you're not," Irina said softly, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "It takes two. It always takes two."  
  
Sydney gazed at her mother, and Irina raised her hand and put her palm on the glass which separated her from her daughter, her eyes filled with both compassion and regret.  
  
Sydney's lip trembled. She lifted her left hand and laid her palm briefly on the glass opposite her mother's and turned to go.  
  
The guard was waiting for her command, and the portcullis opened instantly for her to pass through.  
  
She moved through the rotunda swiftly, her head down, hiding her tears. She put a hand to her face to brush them away and collided hard with someone moving in the opposite direction. Hands reached to steady her--to steady them both--and she looked up into the gray-green eyes of the man she most wanted to see and yet would have taken the greatest pains to avoid. Her handler Michael Vaughn.  
  
"Syd--" he said, with so much tenderness and concern that it filled her with a dull ache inside.  
  
They gazed at each other in confusion--pain, hope, and fear intermingling on each of their faces. Wordlessly Vaughn pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms.  
  
He knew there was nothing he could say that would comfort her. Not this time--not when it was he who had caused her such pain. Not when he had stood in this very spot only a week ago and had told her father that he would never betray her trust.  
  
They stood alone in the center of the rotunda for several seconds. Then Sydney wiped her nose on her sleeve, and slowly extracted herself from his arms. "I got to--I have to--"  
  
Vaughn nodded, and looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "I understand."  
  
He stood alone in the middle of the rotunda and watched her leave until her image blurred, and he had to wipe his eyes.  
  
Sydney got as far as the park. A thin pink line appeared at the horizon, widening in the center, until a single beam of yellow light, pierced the night surrounding it. The beam seared her like lightning, and she watched transfixed as the sun rose and the sky became awash with pink and gold, like the colors of a Japanese fan. She blinked and turned back toward the check point and saw him.  
  
They moved towards each other slowly, and then embraced. Vaughn kissed her hair, her forehead, her cheeks. There were words--of contrition and of forgiveness--but it didn't matter how they tumbled out or who spoke first. It was a beginning. A second chance. 


End file.
